The bike ride

David has the car for work so I am stuck at home all day without a car, but today I rode my bike and it was quite the adventure. I felt very eco-friendly. Suddenly I was several people: the poor, almost homeless man, the car-less college student, the Asian, and the obsessive girl who only eats organic food, is a vegan, whose favorite color is green, and often reflects on her hippie roots.

It was kind of fun changing my routine up a bit and exercising not only my muscles but also my imagination. That is, until it started pouring and I got lost. While it was raining, windy, and cold, I recieved some appologetic looks from several strangers, which strangly enough made me feel independant. But I got a lot done! I got a new drivers licence, turned in check, got some quarters, and picked up some toothpaste.

The adventure made made me think of "Bicycle" by Journey. Not only did I unlock my bike from the dust of winter, but I found a new mode of transportation this summer. AND it will help me get outside and away from the apartment.  Don't get me wrong, I am loving this "no job and no school" thing. Shows you how burnt my brain has become. It's fun to play house. Who knew being a house-wife was so much fun. Cleaning, cooking, organizing, laundering, etc. makes me feel very domestic. I rather like this aspect of womanhood. I think it suits me fine.

The above picture is a manifestation of this new found joy. Of course I love cooking! But now I have time to experiment. Example: Zucchini, banana, orange muffins.

For the record, the were OK... not fantastic. Note to self: I don't like orange flavored anything. Why can't I remember?

The man with the scratchy voice

Yesterday I played with the Wasatch Choral at their end of season concert--and what an experience it was. First of all I had no idea this group even existed--it's kind of like the Utah Valley Symphony, but for choir. It consists of mostly those in their 60-80s with a few young vocal lovers thrown in.

It truly touched my life and the power of music was unmistakable. We played two songs: Symphony of Psalms by Stravinsky and Requiem by John Rutter. Both songs sing and praise Christ, although under different contexts and styles of music. A Requiem is a mass for the Dead while Symphony of Psalms incorporates the text of several psalms. Stravinsky wrote Symphony of Psalms during his neoclassical period, but the sound is very avant-garde. There is lots of dissonance, unusual harmonies and interval combinations. But I think it is beautiful. I could hear the fervor of Stravinsky's faith and religious conviction. We didn't play the exact score of Symphony of Psalms but a reduced chamber version with the piano filling in the holes. The vocal parts were difficult because of their unusual harmonies and while the choir certainly didn't sound professional, they pulled it off wonderfully. It was inspiring to see their love the music.

Although Symphony of Psalms was wonderful, Rutter's Requiem was heavenly. The music by itself is beautiful, but what touched my heart was the look on the singer's faces as they sang. One man in particular, with wrinkles, a stooped back, and caring eyes, truly sang from his heart. The look on his face as he sang "Kyrie Eleison" (Lord, Have Mercy) could not have been more poignant. His voice was scratchy and not as silky as it once was thanks to Father Time, but to me it could not have been more sincere. I knew he loved the Lord with all his heart.

The beautiful music Rutter created was magnified through the faith of the vocalists. Music is funny like that. It communicates what can not be felt through words alone. And it is not only music supplemented by words that touches my soul--often it is merely the music. The cello solo at the beginning of the second movement is deep and ernest, as if pleading to the Lord for supplication.

I am grateful I was given the opportunity to participate and contribute to such beauty and add my faith to those already singing and playing. This is why I play the flute.

And here is a link if you want to listen to the second movement. Here